hatred of Prince Jaegar. He had chosen to betray his own will.
Timaos had swallowed his pride, embraced his grief, and chosen to join the lost males in order to comply with her wishes.
Timaos had chosen to live.
He had resolved to kill the high priest, and he had done it for Jessenia, so her death would not be in vain. He had done it for their people, so that all would not be lost.
He removed his hand from her back, held her gaze one second too long, and then he stood up with iron determination and backed away from the stone. Drawing a deep, singular breath, he began the sacrificial chant once more, and all the males chimed in.
The sound should have terrified her.
The rise and fall of their collective, deep voices, resonating with so much hatred and inequity, should have tormented her soul; but instead, it gave her peace beyond imagining.
It was, indeed, almost over.
Timaos was there— he was with her —and she would die with her beloved at her side, in the only way he could be.
She would pass into the spirit world knowing that their love would live on in his heart, knowing that the faces she had seen in her vision, that remarkable generation of males, so noble, proud, and worthy , would one day come to pass.
She closed her eyes and stopped struggling.
She stilled her mind and ceased trembling.
She dropped her ear to the stone and relaxed her shoulders.
And then, she began to chant beneath her breath, along with the other males, only the verse she repeated was a very different refrain: Timaos…Timaos … Timaos .
Timaos Silivasi watched as Jessenia grew enigmatically calm.
As she ceased resisting, stopped begging, and prepared to embrace her passing with both resolution and pride.
With every ounce of his being he wanted to go down fighting, to spare her from this indignity, to defend her life and her body, and to take as many of her executioners to the grave with him as he could. But he would not dishonor her so, not when she had pleaded so valiantly for his submission, not when he had already debased himself in order to convince Prince Jaegar that he’d had a change of heart.
Not when so many future generations were riding on his decision.
Stepping away from the stone, he began the unholy chant, forcing himself to speak the irreverent words with false but convincing conviction.
And then he shut his eyes.
He could not watch.
He would not watch.
As the priest brandished the blade once more and ended her precious life.
Rather, he held onto her spectacular vision, he got lost within her dream, and all the while, he replayed her words like a prayer for absolution: Stay aliv e. Pledge your allegiance to Prince Jadon. Slay the wicked priest.
Protect the unknown child with your soul.
He is the key to the future.
Right then and there, Timaos Silivasi made the most sacred pledge of his life: He vowed to do all Jessenia had asked of him, and he swore he would not fail, no matter what occurred.
I w ill survive this night, Jessenia . I will survive this curse. By all the gods, I make you this promise : I will pledge my loyalty anew to Prince Jadon , long before it’s too late . I will somehow get to the priest , and I will end his miserable life. I will save the boy-child, and I will raise my own sons to be men among men, to cherish the gift of women.
There will be a new day , and it will dawn beneath a sky of reverence, hope, and love .
T he legacy of our celestial race will live on .
Epilogue
Prince Jaegar Demir reclined on the grassy hillside and gazed out at the valley, just beyond the executioner’s stone. He surveyed his vast, prolific kingdom, admiring all that lay before him, and smiled. While King Sakarias’s death had been such an unpleasant business—guillotines were such nasty contraptions—he had no regrets. He had followed his conscience and obeyed his religion. He had done what needed to be done.
He sighed with satisfaction.
He had sacrificed them all.
And soon, he would be as a
Timaos had swallowed his pride, embraced his grief, and chosen to join the lost males in order to comply with her wishes.
Timaos had chosen to live.
He had resolved to kill the high priest, and he had done it for Jessenia, so her death would not be in vain. He had done it for their people, so that all would not be lost.
He removed his hand from her back, held her gaze one second too long, and then he stood up with iron determination and backed away from the stone. Drawing a deep, singular breath, he began the sacrificial chant once more, and all the males chimed in.
The sound should have terrified her.
The rise and fall of their collective, deep voices, resonating with so much hatred and inequity, should have tormented her soul; but instead, it gave her peace beyond imagining.
It was, indeed, almost over.
Timaos was there— he was with her —and she would die with her beloved at her side, in the only way he could be.
She would pass into the spirit world knowing that their love would live on in his heart, knowing that the faces she had seen in her vision, that remarkable generation of males, so noble, proud, and worthy , would one day come to pass.
She closed her eyes and stopped struggling.
She stilled her mind and ceased trembling.
She dropped her ear to the stone and relaxed her shoulders.
And then, she began to chant beneath her breath, along with the other males, only the verse she repeated was a very different refrain: Timaos…Timaos … Timaos .
Timaos Silivasi watched as Jessenia grew enigmatically calm.
As she ceased resisting, stopped begging, and prepared to embrace her passing with both resolution and pride.
With every ounce of his being he wanted to go down fighting, to spare her from this indignity, to defend her life and her body, and to take as many of her executioners to the grave with him as he could. But he would not dishonor her so, not when she had pleaded so valiantly for his submission, not when he had already debased himself in order to convince Prince Jaegar that he’d had a change of heart.
Not when so many future generations were riding on his decision.
Stepping away from the stone, he began the unholy chant, forcing himself to speak the irreverent words with false but convincing conviction.
And then he shut his eyes.
He could not watch.
He would not watch.
As the priest brandished the blade once more and ended her precious life.
Rather, he held onto her spectacular vision, he got lost within her dream, and all the while, he replayed her words like a prayer for absolution: Stay aliv e. Pledge your allegiance to Prince Jadon. Slay the wicked priest.
Protect the unknown child with your soul.
He is the key to the future.
Right then and there, Timaos Silivasi made the most sacred pledge of his life: He vowed to do all Jessenia had asked of him, and he swore he would not fail, no matter what occurred.
I w ill survive this night, Jessenia . I will survive this curse. By all the gods, I make you this promise : I will pledge my loyalty anew to Prince Jadon , long before it’s too late . I will somehow get to the priest , and I will end his miserable life. I will save the boy-child, and I will raise my own sons to be men among men, to cherish the gift of women.
There will be a new day , and it will dawn beneath a sky of reverence, hope, and love .
T he legacy of our celestial race will live on .
Epilogue
Prince Jaegar Demir reclined on the grassy hillside and gazed out at the valley, just beyond the executioner’s stone. He surveyed his vast, prolific kingdom, admiring all that lay before him, and smiled. While King Sakarias’s death had been such an unpleasant business—guillotines were such nasty contraptions—he had no regrets. He had followed his conscience and obeyed his religion. He had done what needed to be done.
He sighed with satisfaction.
He had sacrificed them all.
And soon, he would be as a
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